Treason
by snakefloss
Summary: Loki is thought dead, and Asgard is at peace, for now. But Sif begins having frequent nightmares, nightmares she can't remember. They tell her of a perfect world... a world where Thor and Odin are dead, and she sits as the Queen of Asgard, ruling alongside a certain God of Mischief... (Post-Thor, name may change, Sif/Loki, major character death.)
1. Chapter 1

There were countless rumors about him. Loki, the "God of Mischief." He was a traitor, that was for sure. Everyone knew about his short reign as king, and his attack on Jötunheim using the Bifröst. He was the reason the massive rainbow gateway had to be destroyed.

Everyone also knew he was dead. Sucked in, of his own accord, by the hole in the fabric of space, created by the Bifröst's destruction.

What was unknown, however, was what rumors about him were true. It was said that the traitorous prince of Asgard had, in truth, been adopted by Odin Allfather. Other rumors claimed he was a frost giant of the realm Jötunheim. Some even said he was the son of Laufey, king of the Jötuns, making him the rightful ruler of Jötunheim.

Of course, many of these rumors were regarded as false and even ridiculous. Those who spoke of them were met with harsh words for their ill speech towards the late prince of Asgard. Thor Odinson, however, knew better than most about the truth of the gossip.

Thor had known his brother was a frost giant from the moment he had seen the electricity frozen in the Bifröst. Loki had always been a very skilled sorcerer, but only a Jötun could have frozen the Bifröst like that.

He had never imagined that his adoptive brother had been the frost giant _prince_. Upon his return to the castle, his father Odin, the king of Asgard, had told him everything about the situation. He truly was Laufey's son, though he was cast out and left to die because of his size. The frost giants took pride in their massive stature, and the prince of Jötunheim could never have been as small as Loki was. He was one of the smallest of the Jötun species.

Thor always considered Loki to be his brother, despite not being blood related, or even of the same race. They had grown up together, fought many battles together, and had formed a strong bond.

At least, that was what Thor had thought, until his brother's betrayal.

Thor was standing at the end of the crystalline bridge that had led to the Bifröst. He looked down at the jagged edge where the Bifröst had been broken off by Mjölnir.

_You had to do it_, he reminded himself, _to save Jötunheim_.

Despite this, he remembered the mortal, Jane Foster. With the Bifröst gone, he could no longer journey to Midgard and visit her. He had promised he would return soon for her, but it seemed like there was no hope for him to keep his promise.

He wished Heimdall was there, but the Gatekeeper was consulting with Odin about the reconstruction of the Bifröst. The ancient guardian was a very good friend of the royal family, and always knew how to cheer Thor up. Heimdall could see what happened on Midgard, and could tell Thor if Jane was doing alright. If she was, it always reassured him.

Thor looked down at the empty space below the bridge. He could remember his brother's death every time he looked down. He had been hit hard by Loki's death, harder than many other people, except for his mother. They had fights, as many siblings often did, but he had never realized that Loki had truly been angry with him. His brother had been very envious, as they had always known that Thor, being the eldest sibling, would become the king.

Thinking back, Thor was angry at himself for being so oblivious. Loki's jealousy was so painfully obvious now. If he had realized it then, he could have talked things out with his adoptive brother. In some ways, Thor blamed himself for everything Loki had done in his betrayal, and even his death.

Lady Sif had never liked Loki, even when they were young. She did not mourn him as the others did, though she was still upset because Thor was upset. She was not rude about it, and knew that while she and him had never been close, Loki was a good friend to the Warriors Three, particularly Fandral. They had played many tricks together, though Loki's had taken a dark turn from harmless to malevolent as he grew up.

As she disrobed into her bedclothes, she remembered the biggest trick he had played on her. Many years ago, when she had been sleeping, the God of Mischief had cut off her long golden hair and replaced it with coarse dark tresses woven by dwarves. They had been kids, and it had been a very long time ago, but her beautiful golden locks had never grown back. She had hated him for that ever since.

She scowled, thankful that no one could hear her thoughts. She would be scorned for thinking ill of the dead, especially the dead prince.

She slipped into bed and fell asleep quickly.

She twisted and turned and mumbled in her sleep. Her dreams consisted of indistinct flashes of gold, black, and green. She knew those colors well, but she was dreaming, and could not make sense of it.

Dark red blood joined the other colors, and though she had seen many battles and large amounts of blood, it terrified her.

She woke up, screaming and in a cold sweat. She could not remember why she screamed.

Someone started pounding on her door. They were shouting a familiar name through the door, but she couldn't quite place who the name belonged to. She recognized the voice as well.

"Lady Sif! What is the matter?" a deep voice boomed, though it was slightly muffled by the doors. Sif thought about it for a few moments.

She finally remembered. That was her name, and Volstagg was the one who was yelling. She got out of bed, and walked shakily to the door. She still couldn't remember why she was scared.

She opened the large doors, and Volstagg was standing in the doorway, looking like he had been attacked by a rampaging bilge snipe. He was very worried, and Sif internally smiled at how much he cared.

"I heard you screaming! What happened? Were you attacked? I'll kill them myself!" he said frantically. He was waving a small throwing axe around as he spoke.

"Calm down, Volstagg, I'm fine. It was simply a nightmare." Sif couldn't remember what the dream had been about, or why she had been so scared, but she figured it must have been a terrible dream for her to be shaking this badly.

Volstagg breathed a sigh of relief. He nodded to Sif.

"I am glad all is well, my lady. I will let you return to your slumber." He gave a small bow and left, heading sleepily for his chambers. Sif quietly closed her doors.

Sif's mind whirled as she tried to remember what the dream was about. She could vaguely recall faint images, but nothing more. She didn't know why it mattered so much, but she felt a sense of importance.

She felt too nervous to go back to sleep, so she pulled a chair to the window and sat down. She stared out the window, still shaking, and watched the dark Asgardian skies for hours, until eventually the stars gave way to the sun. She seemed to be in a sort of trance, watching the stars fade away, and in her daze the beauty of the sunrise was lost to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Everything in here belongs to Marvel. I wish I could have Loki, but that is besides the point.**

**A/N: This chapter did not come out how I wanted it to. I feel like the pacing is odd, and the wording is weird. There isn't enough description. But at least it's long than the last chapter.**

Loki, in all honesty, was not truly dead. He had simply been sent to another end of the universe. He did not know why or how, but he was glad. Ending his own life would have meant he would never even have a chance at reclaiming his rightful place on the throne.

Using his magic, he could see Asgard. The Asgardians mourned for him. At least, they mourned for how he used to be.

He gritted his teeth. He had always been like this. He was not called a trickster for nothing. He had been good at hiding his jealousy towards Thor. He had always been thinking about how to bring his brother down, whether it was embarrassing him in front of girls or ruining his coronation by allowing frost giants into Asgard.

When he had thought of Thor as a brother, he rarely would have made any plans to seriously hurt him.

Things were different between them now. After finding out he was an adopted Jötun, all compassion he held for his family was gone, save for the love he still held for his mother. He would never admit to anyone that he still held feelings for Frigga.

He turned his magical gaze to his father. The old king was sitting on the throne of Asgard, looking comfortable and not upset at all about his son's death. Loki slammed his fist down, regretting it when the sharp rocks caused his hand to bleed.

That throne should have been his. He had almost had it, and then Thor came along and ruined all of his plans. He had done it for the sake of Asgard. His brother was not fit to be the king.

All of his careful planning had been for nothing. Now Thor sat in the comfort of the castle, laughing with friends and sharing drinks, while Loki wasted away in some cave on the other side of the universe.

His newfound frost giant abilities had come in handy. He had found himself on a lifeless planet, covered almost completely in lava and flames. The only reason he had not burned to death was because he had found this cave and frozen himself in. The ice covering the walls kept it cool, but he could not leave. It was a good thing that he did not have to eat. Asgardians only ate because it was fun, and it helped them become stronger.

He had a new plan for the throne of Asgard. It would require power that he did not yet have. He could, at least, set his plan in motion, while he sought out the artifact powerful enough to allow him to finish.

He sensed his target falling asleep, and sped up the process with a wave of his hand. Concentrating hard on her, he began his spell.

Thor had never seen Sif as anxious as she looked that morning at breakfast.

"Is something troubling you, Lady Sif?" Thor asked in between bites of sausage.

Sif waited until she had finished chewing to reply. It was not only good manners, it also gave her time to think of her response.

"No, nothing is troubling me," Sif lied. She didn't feel like she could tell Thor, as much as she trusted him. It was just a little dream, and Sif didn't understand why she felt the need to lie about it.

Thor was skeptical. Sif had never been very good at lying, especially to him, and he could hear the deceit in her voice. He didn't press the matter. She had a right to her secrets.

The rest of the day, Sif had been acting strangely. She was distracted in her spar with Fandral, and he nearly got the advantage and won. She barely ate anything at lunch or dinner, despite being known for her appreciation of feasts, and she retired early.

"Is something the matter with Sif?" Thor asked Volstagg after the female warrior had left the dinner feast.

Volstagg thought about the question for a moment as he guzzled his beer.

"Nope," he said finally. After he took a bite of venison, he added to his answer. "Well, there was last night…"

Volstagg took another swig of beer, and didn't look like he was going to elaborate.

"What happened last night?" Thor prompted. He took the last swig of his drink.

Volstagg put his mug down. "I was woken late in the night by Sif screaming. Naturally, I ran to her chambers armed, ready to fight off whatever had made her yell like that. She dismissed me quickly, however, claiming it was just a bad dream. She looked very shaken up. It must have been a pretty horrible dream." He took the last bite of venison on his plate.

Thor nodded, thankful for the information. It was unlike Sif to lie to him, even about something as small as a nightmare.

Though it had distracted her enough to make her nearly lose a training match, so perhaps it wasn't as simple as he thought.

Sif almost decided against sleep that night, but she was exhausted. She had received a meager three hours of rest the previous night.

She went through her nightly rituals, but she was slower about it than usual that night. She was wanting to delay sleep as long as possible.

She never once wondered why she had felt so odd that day. She didn't want to. It felt wrong to think about it. When she thought about it, a guilty feeling rose in her stomach, and she felt sick.

There was competition to be held tomorrow. Sif smiled. Perhaps a fight would take her mind off of it.

They would fight, and she would win. There would be a feast, more grand than most feasts, in her honor. She would drink and laugh at have fun with Thor, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg. She would forget all about whatever was bothering her.

As she crawled into bed, she felt more at ease than before. She didn't even remember why she had been tense in the first place.

Sleep came to her quickly. Sif had been expecting good dreams that night, of battle and glory and feasts.

She didn't get what she had wanted.

She opened her eyes. She appeared to be standing in a plain white room. She blinked, and suddenly she was in a cave. Or maybe she had been there the entire time.

It was very cold. A figure was sitting on the floor, looking disheveled and quite pathetic. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor person, even if he did remind her of someone else.

"Hello, Sif," the figure said, looking up. It was Loki, she realized. She didn't feel surprised. In fact, she had known it was him the entire time.

Sif knew that this was a dream. Loki was dead, and besides, she would never feel overjoyed at the sight of him unless she was sleeping or out of her mind.

"You're dead," the warrior responded, but she was already somewhere else. She was on a balcony, looking at over Asgard. She recognized that she was in the throne room. Someone was standing next to her, and she turned to look at them. It was Loki, again. This time, he looked as royal as she had remembered him before his betrayal.

She realized that the armor she was wearing was not her usual armor, and it resembled a dress. A crown rested upon her head.

Loki looked over her and smiled. He tilted her head up gently. Then he leaned down, and kissed her. She didn't mind. It was a dream, after all, and why shouldn't she kiss the man she loved?

Some part of her mind told her that this was odd, even for a dream, but she ignored it. Then, she woke up.


End file.
